


Catch Your Breath

by Blueberrychills94



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Cancer, Depression, Eating Disorder, F/M, High School AU, Hope, Mental Health Issues, OOC, Redemption, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Terminal Illnesses, modern day AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-14 21:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7190486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueberrychills94/pseuds/Blueberrychills94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern Day AU/OOC: Katniss is a mute girl desperate to die. Peeta is a cancer patient desperate to live. Their lives are on the opposite sides of the spectrum. </p><p>When Katniss joins a website called The Reaping, which gives her 23 days to live before she must finally take her life, she thinks she is ready for death.  With many botched attempts in her trail, she is determined not to mess up this last time.</p><p>Those 23 days, however, were going to shift her entire world around. She meets Peeta, a boy who'd relapsed so many times but still had hope for a better tomorrow.  His ability to laugh and smile despite his condition fascinates Katniss and the more they interact, the more weary she becomes of the prospect of dying. Can she learn the sanctity of life before the 23 days are up?</p><p>Peeta has no choice. But Katniss does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello!
> 
> With Broken Winged Birds' final chapter being posted this week, I'm taking a venture at another Everlark story! This one won't be as long and is actually planned as a three to four-chapter story if I write it right but once the idea was planted in my head, I couldn't shake it.
> 
> There are a few triggers in this story. Strong themes involve suicide; self-harm; eating disorders; and terminal illness. It's based off a book called 'By the Time You Read This, I'll be Dead' by Julie Ann Peters. I wouldn't exactly recommend the story because the protagonist isn't the most pleasant to read but, hey, if you want to check it out I won't stop you :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy. If you do let me know with a kudo or a comment. Only if you want to of course ;)

Catch Your Breath

By Blueberrychills94

Part I

Tall. Skinny. Shockingly blond.

He always goes to the same spot every afternoon.

Katniss had claimed the bench, he knew it belonged to her, so he leaned against the tree trunk behind, waiting for her mum to pick her up so he can take it. Katniss didn't know what his deal was, but he came out at the same time every day. She didn't like it. Knowing that he was there put her on edge. She wished he would stop.

Her mum pulled up at the curb. Katniss hadn't walked home on her own for years. They don't trust her to do it anymore.

She closed her book and rose to her feet, shouldering her backpack as she walked to the car. The annoying boy didn't take the bench immediately, and instead stayed by the tree until she'd gotten into her mother's car. She leaned forward and peered out Katniss' window, a confused look on her face. "Who is that?" she asked.

Katniss looked away from my window but didn't answer her. She couldn't. Her neck brace squeezed her throat, as if reminding her of her own disability. Katniss scowled and glared at her mother, a clear message to drive already. Why does she always hang around like that? She knew Katniss just wanted to get home and away from this place.

Finally, she shifted the car into drive and pulled away from the curb.

"I'll be going on a business trip for a couple of days," her mother, Rose, explained, "so Greasy Sae will be coming over to watch you and Prim."

Katniss remembered a time where her mother could have left her in charge of Primrose. Now she couldn't even trust her to be in charge of herself. If their father were alive, it would have made things simpler, but now they had to call on Greasy Sae more and more often as Rose got sent away on more and more business trips.

Things would be a lot simpler if Katniss could be trusted.

Katniss learned when she was younger that trust was a special thing. So difficult to gain and so easy to lose. To be perfectly honest, Katniss did not care if her mother did not trust her to look after Primrose. In fact, it was probably better that way. For as much as Katniss loved her sister, she didn't even trust herself to be capable of caring for her anymore. Not after what happened.

"I should probably get some deodorant and toothpaste for the trip," Rose murmured as they approached the corner shop. She glanced at Katniss, dull blue eyes burning into the side of her daughter's head like a fire. She didn't hit the indicator and instead chose to drive on. "I'll get it at the airport," she decided.

Katniss would have scoffed, if she cared enough. Her mother was so easy to read; so easy to see through. It was almost embarrassing. Rose was afraid. She was afraid nearly twenty-four seven. Katniss didn't need to look at the woman twice to know that she was worried that the same thing would happen that happened the last time. The first time. Rose only saw Katniss now as a trigger. Someone who could be set off by anything.

It had been years ago, and Katniss had only been ten at the time. A kid, of course, which only made her mother's ignition all the more agitating. Rose had just left her there. Alone, in the car, with not even a cracked window to assure Katniss that she wasn't going to suffocate. Katniss had always been a paranoid child, and she'd begged her mother to take her inside the store with her.

No, her mother had said, I'll only be a few minutes.

A few minutes was all it took.

Imagine being in a coffin. A box where you knew that the air was slowly running out. Surrounded in soil; nowhere to go; trapped; alone to die without anyone to care. That's what it felt like for Katniss to be trapped in that car. Naturally, she freaked out. It was barely half a minute before she was sure that the walls were closing in on her, and she started to scream like a maniac. She pounded the doors and tried to get them open, but the child lock in the back seat wouldn't release her.

The seatbelt was getting tighter, she had been so sure of it, and her fingers couldn't find the button fast enough to get it open. She fumbled, her hands not working as if they had gone numb, and she had been helpless to anything but lash out and scream as hard as she possibly could. The air was running out, she knew it was, the walls were coming in on her and soon she'd be squashed. She was going to die at the age of ten, just because her mother didn't want her to come into the store with her.

Of course, this attracted attention. Everyone in the parking lot stopped and stared, concerned for the crazy child inside the vehicle roaring like a banshee. Eventually, Rose emerged from the crowd that had gathered and threw the door open. Katniss remembered gasping in the air that rushed in gratefully before bursting into tears.

"What is wrong?!" Rose had exclaimed, humiliation written all over her face. Not concern. Humiliation.

Katniss had been too shell shocked to answer and Rose assured the crowd that had gathered that everything was all right and that Katniss had just been playing a prank. Yeah. A prank. Of course. How funny must people find a child screaming in fear inside a car because she's convinced she's going to die?

As they had driven away from the shop, her mother had asked, "Why did you did that?"

Katniss still felt irritation rise in her chest to this day at such an ignorant question. As if she had purposefully screamed and kicked out in the car to just spite Rose and embarrass her.

Freaking out inside of the car wasn't why Rose couldn't leave Katniss alone anymore. Why she had to drop her off and pick her up from school. Why she had to get Greasy Sae to stay in the house while she went on business trips. Why Katniss' computer was constantly monitored and her room was a barren desert. Rose couldn't leave Katniss alone because she was on twenty-four-hour suicide watch.

The little girl that was trapped in the car, terrified because she thought she was going to die, was no longer afraid of death.

~CYB~

Katniss found the website by accident. It was called The Reaping and it had just appeared on the advertisement bar on her computer. Maybe it was a coincidence, or had showed up because of previous search results, although Katniss couldn't fathom how. She barely did anything on her PC anymore. It was slick, the newest model available with a touch screen and detachable keypad, but what was the use of it if Rose was monitoring her searches?

As she read the description of the site, the only way she could explain it was that it was a site for people to will themselves away. She was slightly concerned, as the realisation came upon her that it was another site about suicide, that her mother was going to burst into her bedroom and ban her from using the PC altogether. Katniss looked to her bedroom door. Nothing. How odd. Normally if any of the trigger words are in the search, her mother would get flagged . . .

The first question that popped up when Katniss clicked the link was Are you ready to be reaped?

There was a No option, which didn't really make sense if the site was all about suicide. Katniss clicked Yes. What did she have to lose? She'd been trying to kill herself for at least a year and a half now. Unsuccessfully, obviously. How many times can you really botch a suicide? Katniss touched the brace around her throat and scowled. Many times, it seemed.

A privacy policy then popped up, which Katniss agreed to despite not having read it all. It then told her to press her dominant finger against the screen. Katniss frowned and looked at her hand. What? She reached out and pressed her finger to the screen anyways, curious about what was going to happen.

Thank you, Katniss Everdeen.

Katniss would have fallen out of her seat if she wasn't completely sure that it would cause her mother to rush to her aid.

Your ID is now J_Doe080592

Katniss rolled her eyes. May 8th 1992 was her birthday. Her mother must have set up some sort of online profile for the computer and didn't bother to secure it. So, so stupid.

There were many different options on the website. They were abbreviated, so Katniss didn't know what to press. She went for the first option, which was under the initials DOD. Eight names then appeared, each of them J_Doe something. No indication towards gender or age, just those same user names with different numbers after.

Then the screen went black.

It asked for her thumb print.

Katniss pressed her thumb against the screen and realised that it was her way of accessing The Reaping. A password so nobody but herself could get onto her profile. It was actually very clever, but she briefly wondered what people who didn't have touch screen computers did.

Another question appeared.

Your Date of Death is 23 days from now, are you ready?

Katniss scowled. No. That was too far away.

Why was Katniss so determined to die? It seemed like a valid enough question; one that she had been asked so many times by her family and psychologists. One that, no matter how often she answered with brutal honesty, they never seemed to understand. They either treated the answers she gave as if they were silly and invalid or kept probing with more inquiries that pretty much had the same answer.

Katniss was tired of living the same lie over and over again. This charade that she was okay with living a life where she was miserable as hell. Ever since she was a child, her life had pushed her to the ground and had been kicking her ever since, like an ever present bully that just wouldn't move on to another victim.

Katniss was bullied for being fat from elementary to middle school.

She lost weight by starving herself.

The bullying stopped.

Her father died.

She started eating again.

She gained weight once more.

She was officially diagnosed with anorexia as she dropped the weight again in less than a month.

She was bullied for being too thin in high school.

She had no friends.

Her mother treated her like a disease.

She barely saw her sister nowadays.

She was a bomb just waiting to go off.

She couldn't speak.

Nobody cared about her.

Nobody would notice.

If only it were that easy.

Katniss sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. Why did the rope have to snap?

Returning her gaze to the computer screen, she tapped the answer No. It asked her to insert her own Date of Death. Katniss immediately went for tomorrow's date, already planning to use the school computers to search a method she hadn't tried yet. There had to be something she wouldn't botch . . .

The site wouldn't accept tomorrow's date, so she tried the day after. When the same thing happened, she did the day after that. The site then informed her that the minimum Date of Death for her would be 23 days from now. The earliest date came up on the screen as the 28th of April. Three weeks from now. Katniss didn't know if she could wait that long.

Katniss clicked Yes and shut her computer off, not sure if this Reaping site was all it seemed to be. All she wanted to do was die. Was that seriously so much to ask?

Katniss lay down on her bed, grunting irritably as her brace squeezed her neck again. She knew she probably sounded selfish. There were people out in the world suffering through dictatorships; wars; poverty; and she was trying to die when she had so many opportunities that those people would kill for. Katniss would gladly give any of them her life if she could, but she honestly didn't see the harm in there being one less human on this earth. Especially someone as worthless as her, who didn't contribute anything to the planet.

There's only a certain amount of times you can bear being looked at like you're a disgusting piece of filth before you snap.

"Katniss, here's your dinner." Rose entered the room with a plate of fish and chips. She and Primrose must have ordered in food. Figures. Rose couldn't cook.

Katniss rolled on the bed to face the wall, combing her fingers through her hair and ignoring the pinch in her throat.

"Promise me you'll eat," Rose said.

Katniss said nothing. She wasn't being rude, exactly, she couldn't speak. She stared at the wall until her mother sighed and left the plate by her bedside. She could feel words on the tip of her mum's tongue but predicted seconds before it happened that she would opt to say nothing. Rose left the room.

Immediately, Katniss slung herself out of bed and picked the plate up. She moved to the trash can and dumped it in, not caring that it would make her room smell. Tomorrow she would tie up the garbage bag and throw it into the outdoors' bin before her mum even got out of bed. Normally she wouldn't be so wasteful, but ever since the accident she hadn't been able to purge her food.

Katniss left the empty plate outside her room for her mum to find. Might as well give her some form of hope.

Katniss may have been ready to die, but she still wasn't ready to be fat again.

~CYB~

The blond boy had a green streak in his hair. Katniss didn't look his way as she left the school and crossed the road to the bench, but she could see a flash of green out of the corner of her eye as he looked up from his book and smiled at her. Katniss ignored him, as always.

Katniss sat down on the bench, wondering why the boy hadn't beaten her to it. She pulled her book out of her bag and balanced it on her knees, hoping without hope that the rain would hold out until she got home. She didn't want to get wet. She felt fat and gross when she got wet. Not to mention it would destroy her book.

Glimmer reached out for Marvel's hand, eyes glistening with tears. "You know I can't bear to lose you, or Gloss," she said. "I love you both equally"-

She reached the end of the page and tore it out of the book. Scrunching it up in her hand, she stuffed it into her blazer pocket. It wasn't exactly the most fascinating read, and there were smut scenes every other page, but she was captivated by the confidence of the protagonist, Glimmer, even if she was an annoying whinge most of the time.

"Please understand, I beg of you," Glimmer pleaded. "I"-

A body falling into the space beside Katniss made her lose her place. The hair stood up on the back of her neck and she nearly jumped off the other side with shock. There was a blur of yellow and green and she instantly knew who it was.

"You're out early," he said, clearly trying to start a conversation.

Katniss ignored him and continued to read.

"I see you come out here every day after school," he continued. "I know you see me too because you always have this endearing scowl on your face when you notice me."

Katniss scowled at the pages. What was this guy's deal?

He inched closer to her and Katniss' head snapped up instantly, shooting a firey glare in his direction. Too close.

"Yikes," he held his hands up in mock surrender, inching backwards again.

Katniss returned her eyes to her book.

Marvel grabbed Glimmer around the waist and kissed her passionately. "If you think I'm going to let you go then you have another thing coming," he growled as his hands tugged on her skirts. "I love you too much for that"-

"My name's Peeta," the blond boy said, holding his hand out towards Katniss.

If he touched her, she was going to scream. Or bite him, whichever came first.

"And I just want to establish right now that I am not a stalker," Peeta continued, a smile too bright for Katniss' liking burned into his features. He didn't seem to care that she didn't shake his hand, and actually made the retraction of his hand again look casual and not at all awkward.

Katniss stared at him, trying to figure out his angle. What did he want? All boys wanted the same thing, but he couldn't possibly be seeking it from her on a wet bench on a disgustingly grey Wednesday afternoon, right? If he was, then he had another fucking thing coming.

"Okay, maybe I am a stalker." Katniss could instantly tell from the way his blue eyes sparkled that he was kidding this time, however it didn't put her at ease at all. "I live in the house next door." He jerked his thumb behind him, at the house beyond the tree he usually leans again. "As I say, I see you coming out of here every day and sitting on this very bench. You always look lonely."

Katniss must have looked alarmed because Peeta immediately backtracked.

"In a totally pretty, brooding kind of a way," he added.

Katniss rolled her eyes and returned to the book, trying to make it perfectly clear that she was ignoring him and was not enjoying his company.

"I want to feel your hands on my body," Glimmer purred, "prove to me that you are the one I should choose"-

"Victor's Passion, huh?" Peeta said, looking over Katniss' shoulder at the book in her hand. "I read that for English Literature last year."

Ha ha. He was really not funny.

"You know how fun it is to write comparative essays of the authors choice of words." He steepled his hands and looked dramatically to the sky. "Please sir, I want to play you like a clarinet of love." He grinned at Katniss out of the corner of his eye and winked. He saw her unimpressed expression and cleared his throat. "Or powerful trombone of masculinity if you prefer."

Katniss looked at the book in her hands and turned her nose up.

Annoyingly perceptive, Peeta immediately said, "I'm not making fun of your reading tastes. In fact, I'm even worse. I read the entire Twilight Saga three weeks ago in the space of three days."

Where did he find time to read four books in three days? He was clearly lying.

"Team Edward, obviously," he added.

Katniss turned around on the bench so her legs hung over the side, ripping the page she was on out of the book and stuffing it into her pocket. She could feel Peeta's eyes on the back of her head and she willed Rose to show up already. What was taking her so long? Why did Peeta choose the day Katniss' mother would be late to talk to her?

"Want some bubblegum? I usually use it to freshen my breath, or make it at least smell less disgusting." Peeta stood up and walked around so he was standing in front of Katniss. She had to crane her head to look up at him. He was tall, and slender, like he could blow away in the wind. "Of course, it sticks with you for ages, but at least if you're planning to kiss anyone in the moment you won't smell of morning breath."

Katniss stared. Was he telling her that her breath smelled?

"I'm rambling aren't I?" Peeta cringed, throwing a bubblegum cube into his mouth. He waited, staring at Katniss as she stared at him. It was really uncomfortable, and Katniss briefly wondered if The Reaping would care if she threw herself in front of a truck now instead of in 22 days' time.

"Your cast looks uncomfortable," Peeta said, gesturing to her neck. "Did your mother drop you on your head as a baby and this is the outcome?"

Still not funny.

Despite the sudden urge to smile . . .

"Ahh, I get it, you went to a rock concert and headbanged too hard?" Peeta wiggled his eyebrows at Katniss. "Whip lash is a bitch. Or so I've heard. Someday I'll take you to a rock concert and you can show me what you did. Mind you, I am a pro banger myself." He frowned and opened his mouth to say something else when Katniss' mum finally pulled up in the street.

Katniss jumped off the bench and made for the car. As she left, she heard Peeta mutter to himself, "Pro banger? What the hell is wrong with you, Mellark?"

Her mother leaned forward to gaze out the window again, a confused frown glued to her features. "Do you know him?" she asked.

Katniss didn't answer. Heart pounding in her chest, she slapped the steering wheel. A clear indication to drive.

When she glanced out at the rear view mirror, Peeta stood by the bench, waving her goodbye with a stupid grin on his face.


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss explores deeper into the Reaping website. She also discovers something about Peeta that she would have preferred to never have found out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers: Suicide; Self harm; terminal illness.

Part II

When Katniss logged into The Reaping, a reminder of how many days she had left flashed up onto the screen, as if they didn't think she wasn't already counting the days down herself. She went to a different heading, one that wasn't DOD. One was a forum, where all the J_Does congregated and talked about their problems.

"My dad abuses me . . ."

"High School is just getting to much for me . . ."

"My girlfriend hits me and no-one will take it seriously . . ."

All of these people, with their names hidden behind the persona of J_Doe, complaining about their problems, not bothering to read anyone else's entry because they're too caught up in their own misery to care. In their eyes, nothing could be worse than their life. Everyone else was the site just didn't understand just how horrible their lives were. Even the people who did reply to a forum entry seemed to have a way of spinning it back to themselves.

"What you said sounds like something I went through not long ago . . ."

"Man, that sucks. I endured something worse . . ."

"I am going through something much more extreme . . ."

The human race were selfish; fickle; boring beings. They were all wrapped up in their own little bubbles, determined to make their lives sound bad; so their struggle could seem worse than the next person. When Katniss was in playgroup, she had a brief friend who sat with her at lunchtime. She was the sort of little girl that if you tripped playing hopscotch and your elbow was hurting, she would remind you that one time she dislocated her entire shoulder because she fell down the stairs.

Who knew that sympathy would become so hard to find?

Katniss clicked on the 'create new forum' button, and stared at the blank space with the line bubbling in and out of existence, waiting for her to start typing. Already it felt like judgement. Like the paper white screen and its emptiness was somehow already making assumptions about her pathetic problems. There were people on this website suffering from abuse; slavery; torment. What did she have to complain about in comparison to that?

Besides, she didn't need anyone's sympathy.

Katniss clicked away from the forum and went to the third heading. What she found was different methods of killing oneself. She was baffled to find detailed depictions of various different methods-some of which she had already attempted herself-and information on their efficiency; pain intensity on a scale of 1-10; it was very extensive. She almost wished she had this when she had tried before.

She had tried a couple of the methods here before. The first having been what most believe is the most common form: hanging. There were two ways should a way could go: either your neck snaps instantly or you hang until you suffocate. Katniss' attempt went wrong, and she ended up suffering the latter. Until, that is, the rope snapped and dropped her to the ground.

The most recent attempt was why she was now mute and wore a neck brace. A few months' prior, Katniss attempted to drink bleach. She had believed it was bulletproof. Bleach was poisonous, surely she wouldn't survive? All she remembered from the experience was violently vomiting; passing out; and waking up to the firemen breaking down her locked bathroom door. The pain in her throat had been so intense, she had been sure that this was it. That she had finally succeeded.

But no, they got her to the hospital fast enough. Her stomach was pumped and she survived. Now her oesophagus was damaged and she had to wear the stupid neck brace. More things to hold her back. More reasons to destroy her life.

Slitting one's wrists was also suggested. Katniss glanced at her own wrists, where the fat scars still stood out like beacons on her skin. Out of every attempt, she wished she could go back and fix that one. Because not only did she now have to wear sweaters or long-sleeved garments but she also had those thick; ugly; disgusting scars on her wrists that she couldn't avoid. At least the neck brace could be explained as something else-an accident or mishap-and she never spoke to anyone outside her family so nobody noticed when she went dumb.

Katniss clicked out of the website and pushed away from her computer. Her amount of days appeared again as the site logged out, reminding her how long she had left on the earth.

Fifteen days.

~CYB~

Peeta had a book of his own this time.

Katniss made sure he knew where he stood by shoving her bag between them on the bench and turning her back on him. She hunched over her book, forcing herself to remain focused on the pages in front of her. It was difficult, since she knew that the person she was currently sharing a bench with probably wanted to talk to her, and it was making her feel on edge that they were sitting in such prolonged silence. She ripped her page out after having barely read it and crumpled it up in her hand.

It was a bizarrely nice day. Katniss didn't like it when it was hot out, for her sweaters made her sweat horribly. She couldn't take it off like everyone else did. She didn't want to take it off like everyone else did. When the day was bright; so bright that the grass looked fresh enough to eat and the sky was clear as crystal, Katniss wished that she could retreat to her bed and refuse to come out. Why should she have to endure such beauty? Everything should be grey, so it matched her mood. Depressed.

"'Glimmer took Marvel into her hand and smirked, enjoying the power she had over him,'" Peeta suddenly read aloud.

Katniss turned around and stared at him. He raised his eyebrows at her and showed her the cover of his book. Victor's Passion! Katniss gaped at the amount of pages he seemed to have gotten through as well since they last spoke. That had been more than a week ago, but how did he get through so much of the book in so little time? There were over a thousand pages in Victor's Passion, where did he possibly find the time to read so much and nearly be at the same place as her?!

"This Glimmer character is rather boring," Peeta said, returning his eyes to the pages in front of him. "I mean, it's like the author is trying to shove in your face that she's an independent woman. Okay, I get that, but what else is there to her?"

Katniss continued to stare at him. What else did he want? Glimmer was a strong, independent female character. Something media was lacking in. How could he possibly ask for more than that?

Peeta must have noticed something in Katniss' stare because he elaborated. "It's all well and good being strong and independent, but what about her personality? I like to get to know the characters of the story, know them so well that I could tell if they preferred apples over oranges even if the books didn't say. That's the sign of a good author."

Katniss rolled her eyes. And I suppose you got that from Twilight? She thought.

"I'm not dissing your book or anything, but I could certainly recommend something that I think is better," Peeta explained. "I have a lot of books back at my house, you'd be surprised how much reading you get done when you don't have to go to school."

Katniss narrowed her eyes. Surely he was lying again. No school? He was the same age as her, surely, so that would be illegal. Why did this boy persist on lying? Was he trying to impress her or something?

Peeta brushed a hand through his hair. Katniss noticed out of the corner of her eye a few strands coming out between his fingers. He pulled a face and shook them away. The same thing happened her sometimes. She'd find hair everywhere. Her sweaters; pillows; chairs. It was a pain. "I know you're mute and all that," said Peeta, "but we could communicate through writing, if you want."

Katniss exhaled and flipped her book shutting, realising that she wasn't going to get any more reading done this afternoon. What made him think that she wanted to talk to her?

"I can even get you started." Peeta flipped to the back of his copy of Victor's Passion and penned a hi onto the blank page at the back. He showed to her, his eyes widening as he took in how horrified Katniss was that he had written on the book. "It's just paper. In fact, it's a waste of paper. Why is there always a blank page at the back of a book? It's a waste. And it's killing the trees, too. I'm doing a service by making use of it, really."

Katniss wondered if there was a point to the blank page at the back of a book . . .

Peeta grinned that silly grin again and Katniss noticed that his mouth lifted more on the right than it did on the left so the smile was kind of lopsided. He returned his gaze to the book and wrote something else. When he lifted the book this time, there was a question.

-What's your name?

If it would get him off her back. Katniss begrudgingly took the pen off him and wrote her name down.

Peeta's grin widened. "That's unusual," he said.

Says the man named after bread, Katniss thought, throwing the pen down onto the book so it bounced off and landed on the ground.

"I didn't mean it as an insult!" Peeta replied, huffing like a child told that they couldn't have any more sweets. His hair blew upwards as he huffed out a breath. "You're a tough nut to crack, you know that?"

Then stop trying.

"But I'll get there eventually."

Katniss rubbed her eyelids with her thumbs. What exactly did he want with her? She wasn't a nice person, what possibly could appeal to this guy?! She was a raincloud and he was sunshine. They didn't mix. Besides, fourteen days' time she was going to be dead and Peeta would still be alive. He'd probably still come to the bench and wonder why she was no longer there every day.

Katniss was surprisingly struck by how sad that was.

Something nudged her arm.

Katniss looked down to see the edge of Peeta's book pressing into her arm. She looked at him with narrowed eyes and he beamed right back, gesturing to the blank page they'd been writing on. She read the newest message on the page.

-It's my eighteenth birthday in two weeks. Be my date?

Katniss returned her gaze to the blond boy and shook her head.

Undeterred, Peeta penned something else in.

-Why?

Katniss shook her head again. She didn't need to explain herself to him.

"It's a big birthday," Peeta said.

It's a big birthday for everyone, Katniss thought bitterly. She stuffed her book into her bag and stood up, walking to the edge of the curb. Where was her mother? What could she possibly have to do that keeps making her so late? Katniss lifted her hand above her eyes to blot out the sunlight and hugged her stomach with the other.

"Late again, huh?" Peeta sighed, jumping off the bench and leaving his book behind. "I feel bad for you, stuck here with an idiot like me."

How long would it take if she started walking home now?

"What time is anyways; do you have a watch?" Peeta grabbed Katniss' wrist before she could react and pushed her sleeve up, clearly intending to see if she was wearing a watch.

Katniss' heart dropped, her bag falling off her shoulder as she wrenched her wrist away from him. It was too late though. She wore her sweaters to cover her scars, for she had cut herself so deep that the scars that healed over the wounds were unavoidably ugly. Fat, ugly blemishes that sat out on her skin like disgusting reminders of how pathetic she was.

There was no way Peeta hadn't seen them.

Peeta stepped back from her, respectfully giving her the space she needed. Katniss could see the pieces sliding together in his head, as he put together the scars on her wrist to the brace on her neck. What was he going to do now? Give her sympathy? She didn't want it. Sympathy made the situation worse. Katniss didn't want anyone's sympathy.

"Are you sad?" Peeta surprised her by asking.

Katniss glowered at him, snatching her bag off the ground and making a big deal out of ignoring him. She wasn't going to talk about this with him.

"I guess since I now know something personal about you, I should probably make it fair," Peeta said, scratching his head sheepishly.

Katniss glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. What did he mean?

"I have Hodgkin's Lymphoma."

This made Katniss look at him fully again. Wasn't that cancer? She snatched the pen out of his hand and wrote, "That's not funny," on her hand. Peeta peered at it and laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he did.

"You're right, it's not," he simply replied.

He was lying. He had to be.

Katniss stared at him. He stared back.

"There. Now we both know something personal about each other," Peeta eventually said.

Just as he finished speaking, Katniss' mum pulled up by the pavement. Katniss all but dived into the car, practically tearing the door off its hinges as she did so. Peeta remained on the pavement, his smile still wide as ever. Surely if he had cancer he wouldn't be so bright looking? Katniss looked away, but her mother didn't.

The windows were down because of the hot weather, and Rose did what she always did: she peered over the steering wheel and out Katniss' window at the bench. Thusly, at Peeta too. He waved. "Hello," he said, "I'm Peeta."

"Rose," Katniss' mother replied. Katniss was horrified and she smacked the steering wheel, hoping her mother would get the message. She didn't. "Are you a friend of Katniss?"

"I'm working on it," Peeta replied, still grinning like a maniac.

Katniss smacked the wheel so hard that it made her mother jump. The mother and daughter locked eyes. Katniss portrayed one word through her gaze. Go.

"I'll see you around then, Peeta," her mother made time to say, causing Katniss to groan with embarrassment.

"Bye Rose," Peeta answered, waving them goodbye as they drove away.

Katniss was mortified. Peeta was a liar, he had to be. Trying to make her feel bad so she'd go out with him for his eighteenth. He couldn't possibly have meant that his eighteenth was a big birthday because he had made it that far . . . Right? Right. Katniss didn't want to admit that she was in slight denial, for it sort of made sense. Why he didn't go to school; and his hair came out from between his fingers; why he was so slender and bony . . .

Katniss had been thinking about killing herself beside a boy who was already dying.


	3. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Rose is away on a business trip, Greasy Sae is watching over Katniss and Prim. She must visit her granddaughter, though, and comes up with an alternative for Katniss' care that the teenager isn't fond of....

Part III

One would think that once your mother has left on a business trip, one would have more freedom.

Not in Katniss' case.

Due to the fact that Greasy Sae knew about Katniss' mental state, and the suicide attempts that she had under her belt, the old woman was weary of leaving Katniss alone. Katniss didn't know what sort of picture her mother had painted about her state of mind, but it certainly couldn't have been good if Greasy Sae was poking her head around the door every half hour to make sure Katniss hadn't tossed herself out the window.

How could she anyway? It was bolted shut.

Katniss didn't even feel safe enough to go onto The Reaping with Greasy Sae bustling in every thirty minutes, a fresh excuse as to why each time. It didn't matter. Katniss kept track of the amount of days she had left mentally. The site wasn't good for much else besides that. Sure, it probably offered good help to those who didn't know in what way they were going to kill themselves; or wished to listen to the miserable stories that others had to tell; but Katniss was done with the self-pity. She just wanted to die already.

She thought about Peeta often.

It had been a few days since she had seen him, for she had faked sick to stay off school and avoid having to sit with him. She wasn't sure why she cared so much because she had stopped caring about what people thought of her long ago when she first attempted suicide and failed. However, for some reason she couldn't explain, the knowledge that Peeta had cancer was extremely jarring. Katniss knew that teenagers got cancer, but she had never known someone herself who had the disease under the age of thirty. It seemed too . . . close. Too personal. And she didn't like it.

Peeta probably thought she was pathetic. Here he was, with Hodgkin's Lymphoma, and she was perfectly healthy besides the obvious. Katniss knew that he would probably die for her health. She would gladly give it to him, if she could. Maybe even take on his illness herself so he'd be free of it. It would be a slow way to die, but at least she would know that she wouldn't fail.

-Hodgkin lymphoma is an uncommon cancer that develops in the lymphatic system, which is a network of vessels and glands spread throughout your body. The lymphatic system is part of your immune system. Clear fluid called lymph flows through the lymphatic vessels and contains infection-fighting white blood cells, known as lymphocytes.

-Overall, around 85% of people with Hodgkin lymphoma live at least five years and most of these will be cured. However, there's a risk of long-term problems after treatment, including infertility and an increased risk of developing another type of cancer in the future.

Katniss frowned as she read the information on her phone. Did that mean that Peeta wasn't going to die? Or was he part of that 15% that was unlucky and wouldn't survive it? Why were these websites so vague?!

"Katniss, what are you doing?"

Katniss looked up from her phone, which she had hidden on her lap under the table. Greasy Sae was staring at her with an imploring gaze. What? Did she think she was looking up suicidal methods under the table? Hardly.

Katniss picked her plate up, deciding that she wanted to go back to her room, and dumped it into the blender in the kitchen. She heard Prim explaining to Sae in the dining room that Katniss' food needed to be blended because of her injury. It hardly mattered, whichever way she wasn't going to eat it. Starvation was a slow and painful means of death, but it was a means of death none the less.

"Katniss," Greasy Sae called from the dining room, "I was just explaining to Primrose here that tomorrow I must go and visit my granddaughter at the other side of the city, so I can't collect you from school, nor can I look after you tomorrow evening."

Katniss released the lid from the blender with a frown. So, what? She had to stay in school for God knows how long? No chance. No chance at all.

"Primrose has some friends she says she can stay with but I didn't know about yourself so I called your mother." Katniss spun around and stared at the open doorway, where she could see Primrose and Sae eating at the table next door. This couldn't be good. "She told me there's a boy who lives across from your school who you're quite friendly with so I took the liberty of dropping by the house this morning when I visited the school to explain your absences."

Katniss' jaw unhinged. No. No. No. She didn't mean-

"They'd gladly look after you for the evening until I can pick you up later," Greasy Sae finished. "So you're to go to their house tomorrow afternoon when you finish school."

Katniss leaned against the kitchen counter, knocking the blender with her elbow. She covered her eyes with her hand and made a noise that sort of resembled a groan but sounded more like a cat being ripped apart because of her damaged chords.

She had to spend tomorrow evening with Peeta, and she had no choice in the matter.

~xXx~

Katniss tried to pretend to be sick the next day but Greasy Sae wasn't having it. She said that Katniss had been off long enough, and that Rose would be very angry if she knew that she had been so soft and had let her off school so often while she had been gone. Katniss knew that the woman was suddenly so firm because she didn't want to leave Katniss alone while she went to visit her granddaughter. Because, again, she seemed to think that Katniss was going to jump out the window in her absence.

The entire day was filled with more dread than usual. Katniss felt physically ill the entire day. To be honest, she wasn't one hundred percent sure why. Up until recently, Peeta had simply been a nuisance. One she could easily ignore. And Katniss certainly wasn't the sort to treat someone differently just because they were ill. Peeta's cancer didn't affect his behaviour, so Katniss knew that he would be just as annoying with it than he would be without it. A part of her wished for his sake that it could have been the latter.

Now, however, she felt anxious at the thought of having to be around him. Was it because he figured out she was suicidal? So many people had heard about what happened when she had tried to drink bleach, and everyone looked at her differently because of it. Katniss didn't care though. She had been too caught up in her dismay that she had failed.

It had to be because of the cancer. It was obviously making Katniss change her perception. Not because she pitied him, or desired to treat him differently now that she knew about his illness, but because he must have thought she was a pathetic excuse for a human being. She was damaging her body by her own free will and then blaming it on how other people treated her. Katniss had known how pathetic it had sounded from the beginning, ever since she decided that she wanted to die. However, it felt different, thinking of how it must seem through the eyes of someone who had shook hands with death, or at least believed he had upon first diagnosis.

Katniss wasn't an expert, but she figured that the first thing a person would think when they heard the word cancer would surely be, "I'm going to die."

Peeta wasn't waiting at the gate for her with a shit eating grin like she thought he would be. Instead, he sat at the bench, playing on a game console. The green streak in his hair was now orange, and Katniss wondered if he did that because his hair was probably falling out anyways. Did Hodgkin's Lymphoma get treated with chemo?

Katniss crossed the road, the sun beating down on her black blazer like a kid trying to fry an ant under a magnifying glass. She threw herself into the space beside Peeta on the bench, and pulled her book out of her bag.

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Katniss wasn't really reading. She tried to, but her mind was too preoccupied. Mainly with the million-dollar question: Was this kid dying? It shouldn't have been concerning her so much, as she had surely been aware that millions of people died of this disease every day and her wishing to kill herself was a disgrace in comparison. Having it so close though, having it literally sitting right next to her, was unnerving her greatly.

"Should I address the elephant in the room?" Peeta eventually said, and Katniss was surprised that she actually found herself exhaling with relief.

Katniss turned to look at him. He wasn't looking at her. His eyes were focused solely on his game. His thin hands moved around in the air, as if their movements had any bearing on the avatar he was playing with. The sunlight was hitting his hair at just the right angle that it looked like it was glowing bright gold.

"I'm not dying," Peeta continued, knowing that Katniss couldn't physically answer him. "Well, at least for now. There is a good chance of surviving Hodgkin's, my problem seems to be that I keep relapsing only months after going into remission."

Remission. That meant being cured, didn't it?

"Any day where I am living and breathing, I consider as a day where I am not dying," Peeta explained. He broke away from his screen and looked at her. His gaze was so unguarded, Katniss had to look away. "Whatever it is that has made you believe your life is miserable enough to end, I hope you overcome it."

Katniss frowned. He couldn't possibly say that as if it was easy! When she looked back at him, ready to scowl him out, he had returned to his game. He said nothing else. No beseeching; no judging; no nothing. That was all he had to say on the matter. Katniss was shocked.

"Ariel is making sandwiches for your arrival," Peeta said, as if the previous conversation hadn't happened at all. "We have a blender, since you don't seem to be in the position for consuming solids at the moment."

Katniss rolled her eyes. She knew that she would have to eat in front of these people as to not to arouse any suspicion, it just meant that she would have to figure out a way to purge it when she got home. Who was Ariel anyways? It couldn't possibly be his mother? Who calls their mother by their first name?

"Ariel is my carer," Peeta answered, almost as if he had read Katniss' mind. "My parents live in the Capitol, along with my brothers. They are business people, and thus are very, very busy." He put on a posh voice to explain this, and Katniss had a feeling he was mimicking a tone he had heard many, many times. Probably from his parents. "They visit during the holidays, and send Ariel money for my treatment."

What sort of parents only visited their sick son during the holidays?

"I can't travel, ya see." Peeta stood up, swung his leg up onto the bench, and sat back down on top of it again. "So I can't go with them to the Capitol for their work. They used to visit more often, but once I relapsed for the . . . third time, I think it was, they just gave up on it."

Katniss thought about her own mother, who was so scared of the possibility of her daughter's death that she took every precaution to prevent it from happening. Could Peeta's family really say the same? He could die any time, and they wouldn't be there for him when he needed them. What sort of fucked up parents were they?

Peeta snapped his game shut and threw it into the air, catching it again as it came back towards him. "They send me a lot of money, though, which I use to buy my books and, well"-He gestured to the console in his hands. Katniss raised her eyebrows, curious as to if Peeta considered this as his parents trying to buy him or not. "Of course, I'm not trying to say this to make you pity me or anything. I don't want you to feel guilted into being my date for my eighteenth."

A pause.

Peeta quirked an eyebrow, a smirk that made Katniss' face heat up gracing his features. "Unless that works, of course."

Katniss shook her head slowly.

Peeta grinned and punched the air. "Dang it, I thought I had it this time," he joked. Katniss looked away and suppressed a smile. Urgh, what was this? She shouldn't be finding this idiot amusing. Peeta slapped his thighs and stood up. "So, are you coming?"

Feeling like she was about to enter the gates of hell, Katniss sighed and stood up also. She followed Peeta like a convict heading for the electric chair.

His house was actually quite big. Katniss thought that this made sense. Peeta's parents must have been putting money in for his housing as well as his treatment. At least they hadn't abandoned him completely, which was something. Wait. Why did she care? She didn't care. Caring was dangerous. Now more than ever.

A woman with cherry red hair was brushing leaves off the porch. She looked up when she saw them heading towards her and smiled. "Hello," she said, hopping down the steps with her brush still in hand. "You must be Katniss. I'm Ariel."

Katniss hesitantly shook Ariel's hand, a guarded expression on her face.

"And yes, that is why my hair is this colour," Ariel grinned. The taller woman released Katniss' hand and headed back up the steps again. "Come on in, I'm just finished making an afternoon snack for you both."

Peeta followed her, taking his time up the steps. He turned once he reached the top in this jarringly innocent, 'no flies on me' way. The way the sun hit his hair made it glow like a halo around his head, the orange sparking like a struck match. A celestial being who couldn't possibly be ill, for he looked so proud and happy in that moment that it didn't feel it could be right.

"Welcome to Casa de Mellark."


	4. Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss spends the afternoon in Peeta's house, and stumbles upon an unwanted discovery.

Part IV

"We have a state of the art blender," Ariel explained, talking like one of those salesmen on infomercials. "Courtesy of Peeta's folks, of course. On really hot days I'd crack out the ice cream and a few chocolate bars and make some milkshakes." The red headed woman glanced out the window. "It's actually quite nice today, I might run down to the shops later and make you guys some."

Katniss sat stiffly at the kitchen islet, feeling like an alien on a foreign planet. Everything in the house looked so clean cut and expensive, she worried about touching anything in case dirt came off her hands like a natural oil of some sort. She never felt comfortable in strange environments, and she never felt more out of place than she did in Peeta's kitchen.

"The chocolate bits might be too big for Katniss to swallow," Peeta reminded his carer. He was sitting in the seat directly beside Katniss, his feet propped up on the third one. He nudged Katniss with his elbow and grinned. "I mean, you can try if you want but it might be a bit of a challenge."

Katniss sealed her lips shut and shook her head. Ariel was throwing a couple of sandwiches into the blender, and Katniss could already predict the yucky slop colour that the snacks would create when blended. She'd eat it to be polite, it was just going to hurt like a bitch when she purged it later on at home.

"I had to have my food blended for a while," Peeta said conversationally as they watched Ariel blend the sandwiches. The blare of the machine was deafening, and Peeta had to raise his voice a little to be heard over the grinding gears. "Chemo can sometimes give you these awful sores around your mouth. When I was first diagnosed I was very prone to 'em. Were a bitch to be rid of, I'll tell you that."

"Language, Peeta," Ariel scolded. She released the button for a moment, the silence like a choir of angels to Katniss' ears. She hated the grinding of blenders, they drove her insane. "I'm sure Katniss doesn't want to hear about your bleeding mouth."

"I'm only sharing my stories," Peeta said, placing a hand on his heart and acting offended. "It's what I'm good at."

"What you're good at is running your mouth," Ariel chuckled. She poured the food mixture into a green soup mug that said 'Talk to me on a day that doesn't end in 'Y''. Katniss could only manage a weak smile as the mug was passed over to her. "Do you think you'd be able to drink a milkshake, Katniss?"

Katniss stared at her mug for a moment before eventually nodding. Anything to keep Ariel occupied. She didn't want to have to start answering questions about herself; it was hard enough to deal with when it was only Peeta.

"I'll get on that, then," Ariel beamed, her expression warm and comforting. "I'll just pop out to the shops then." The carer rounded the islet, ruffling Peeta's hair as she passed and making the blond boy groan with frustration as the style was messed up. "Look after Peeta for me while I'm gone, make sure he doesn't hurt himself with a spoon."

"Excuse me, I am offended," Peeta said indignantly, hitting the counter top lightly with a closed fist.

Ariel rolled her eyes and smiled at Katniss. "There's duct tape in the drawer if you wanna"-She mimed taping Peeta's mouth shut, the boy in question shooting daggers out of the corner of his eyes but grinning like a maniac at the same time.

Katniss was actually smiling, but instantly stopped as soon as she caught herself doing it.

"I'll see you kids in a bit," Ariel called as she left, grabbing her bag from where it lay on the floor upon exit.

Now it was just Katniss and Peeta. Alone again.

Katniss averted her gaze from Peeta, trying to act the way she would when they would be sitting outside on the bench. It felt alien being in his house, for Katniss had never been in a house besides her own. Mainly because she attracted friends the way a dog would attract cats. She had never known someone well enough to feel comfortable entering their home or to invite them to hers.

"I have never played host before," Peeta admitted, breaking the silence. He threw his legs off the chair and stood up. "I have never had a chance to. So please pardon me if I do something considered inadequate."

Why did he have to speak sometimes like he had a dictionary shoved down his throat? Katniss didn't touch the sandwich mixture that Ariel had placed in front of her and Peeta seemed to notice this as he chucked his plate into the sink. "Not hungry?" he asked.

Katniss shook her head.

Peeta leaned against the kitchen islet, directly in Katniss' line of sight. "Why don't I believe you?"

Katniss met his gaze angrily, a look that said, 'Believe what you like,' but made clear that she wasn't touching the food while Ariel wasn't here to notice.

Peeta hissed and looked at his arm. "Damn woman, your eyes could light bonfires," he joked.

Not funny.

Just like he had done when he had noticed the scars on Katniss' wrists, Peeta didn't push the fact that she refused to eat. Katniss wondered why one second he seemed to care but the next second he would drop the topic like a hot potato. Why did she care if he cared? Did she want him to care? No, impossible. Of course she didn't want that.

"So, as I say, I have never hosted before," Peeta explained, reaching across the islet and grabbing the glass full of Katinss' sandwich mixture. He played with the straw for a moment, took a sip, and immediately pulled a face. "So, uh, I'm not sure what to do. We could read in awkward silence but I refuse to allow this to happen because I want to make my first hosting experience a good one, you follow?"

Katniss stared at him for a moment. What? Why did it even matter?

"Do you like video games?" Peeta enquired, spinning on his heel and dumping the contents of the glass into the garbage disposal.

Katniss' eyebrows furrowed. She played video games when she was a child, but once the depression and anxiety set in she never really got back to it. It depended on the game she was playing in all honesty.

Peeta looked over his shoulder at her and quirked an eyebrow. From particular angles, he actually looked rather handsome . .. "I have many of the original Spyros for the playstation. My parents got a hold of them for me when I first got ill. Before I was homeschooled I had many sick days and I would get to play them all day then."

Spyro? Wasn't that game ancient? How in the world could his parents have-Katniss stopped that thought dead. Money was the answer. Money bought everything.

"I'll get them, hold on," Peeta said. He rinsed out Katniss' glass and walked around the islet to where the kitchen gave way to the living room, where there was then a hall that lead to what Katniss guessed where the bedrooms. "Switch the t.v on if you want, I shan't be long!"

Katniss rolled her eyes, reluctantly sliding off the seat and making her way to the living room. The furniture looked like it was expensive, but that didn't seem to have stopped them from being lived in. The cushions were dented and the pillows were wrinkled. Katniss sat down on the corner sofa and picked the remote up off the floor.

The plasma screen television nearly dwarfed the entire wall. The cost probably would eat up a month's worth of Katniss' mother's paycheck, maybe even more. Trying not to think about it, Katniss pressed the red button on the top of the remote.

The screen flickered into life, but the footage playing seemed to be from a disc in the machine. Someone must have been watching it and forgot to take it out or switch it off, so the t.v automatically played it from where it left off. There was a date and time in the top right corner, and Katniss realised it was home movies. Her mum tried to make home movies with a camcorder she won in a raffle but it never stuck. She always forgot to charge it and never had it switched on during important moments. Eventually she gave up, especially when Katniss' mental health began to decline and she had to start looking after her all the time.

Whoever held the recorder in this instance seemed to be very incompetent with it. They didn't seem to know how to hold it steady, so the footage rocked and shook more than the Blair Witch Project.

"Back for more chemo," Ariel's voice said, coming from behind the camera, "Today is a momentous day, for once again our hero, Peeta Mellark, returns to battle the demon of Cancer!" She was putting on a voice like a wrestling commentator announcing the next match. "And beat its ass, as usual."

The footage settled for a moment, and Katniss saw Peeta sitting in a seat beside what look like a hospital bed. He didn't look much older than he was now, nor did he look much different. Except here he looked exhausted.

"What can I say?" he said to Ariel as she recorded him, smiling weakly, "It just can't resist me."

"They find you irresistible," Ariel chuckled, rolling her 'r's'.

A nurse came in as they laughed at this and sat beside Peeta on the chair. "You know the deal by now, I'm sure," she said, "this will go into your hand and the chemo will go through the tube and into your veins."

"You're lucky you aren't addicted to that stuff, Pete," Ariel joked, the camera seeming to zoom in on what the nurse was doing to Peeta's hand.

Peeta winced as the nurse slid the IV in, but the smile hadn't left his face. "You know me, Ariel, amazing willpower and all that jazz." His face paled considerably and the footage went crazy, like Ariel was running across the room. There was then the sound of vomiting, with Ariel's encouragements shouting over it, saying that it was okay and to let it out etc.

Katniss didn't feel right watching this, and looked around for the remote for the DVD player. It didn't seem to be anywhere. Not under the pillows or under the coffee table or anything. The footage fizzled, static covering the screen the way it does when the camera has been switched off for a while.

It jumped back into life with more vomiting, and Katniss could just make out a blond boy hunched over a hospital toilet throwing up. He lifted his head and looked over his shoulder, his eyes no longer holding that joking glint. "Turn it off Ariel, I don't want my parents to see me like this!" he shouted, voice echoing around the small toilet like a man in a cave.

"I'm trying; the button is stuck!" Ariel answered.

Katniss didn't like this. Well, she didn't know anyone who would like witnessing this sort of thing, but seeing Peeta like that was almost daunting. Because he always wore a smile and didn't seem to be bothered by anything. Cancer held no prisoners, Katniss supposed. Young; old; happy; sad; ill; or healthy. All were susceptible. And it would steal at least one smile from everyone going through it, and everyone surrounding them.

It reminded her of how selfish she was. There were people out there desperate to live, and she was going to throw her life away like it was nothing. But it really was nothing. In Katniss' eyes she had nothing to live for, but as she stared at the hospital recording of Peeta going through his chemo-clearly recorded by Ariel to send to his parents-Katniss realised that maybe having a healthy body and a roof over her head was something to live for in itself.

No. She had to finish this when The Reaping told her. She had to.

Peeta emerged from the hallway, a pile of video games under his arm. He frowned at Katniss, for she must have been gaping at the t.v screen with pure horror on her face. "Oh shit," he cursed. He threw the games onto the closest chair and crouched to his knees in front of it, sticking his arm underneath and grabbing the remote. He whipped around and pressed the 'eject' button, which made the player spit the disc out like it was poisonous.

For a while, Katniss continued to stare at the blank screen, as if the movie was still playing. Eventually, like clockwork, Katniss slowly turned her head to look in Peeta's direction, almost like she was in a dream of some sort.

"I am so sorry about that," Peeta said, stepping around the coffee table and sitting beside her on the sofa. "Ariel watches these from time to time but never stops the disc when she turns the t.v off. They're just home videos she recorded for my parents when they were away on business during my treatment."

Katniss didn't know what to say, even if she could speak. She wasn't sure if she could look at him the same after seeing him in such distress.

"Katniss," Peeta pleaded, sensing her reluctance to even look at him, "surely you understand the desire to not be judged by our past."

This reminded of her of when Peeta saw the cuts in her arms. He didn't talk about it, nor did he treat her like a crazy psychotic who was going to slash her wrists right before his eyes. He treated her normally. Maybe this spawned from his own want for people to see him as Peeta, not 'Peeta the Cancer Patient'. In a way, Katniss did understand. She didn't want people to know that she had attempted suicide, but it was branded on her wrists forever until she could leave the world for good. Similarly, Peeta didn't want people to only see him for his illness, but sometimes it was unavoidable. If Katniss had to guess, if Peeta hadn't accidentally exposed her wounded wrists he probably would never have told her about the Cancer.

Katniss pointed towards the chair where Peeta left the games. He looked over his shoulder at them, then back at her, blue eyes shining with confusion. Katniss met his gaze and smiled, hooking her finger in a gesture that meant, 'Show them to me'.

The biggest smile broke out in Peeta's face. He jumped from the sofa, grabbing the bundle of games and returning to Katniss, babbling some nonsense about Spyro being a classic and how it was, in his eyes, revolutionary. Katniss felt a warm buzz in her stomach as she watched him spread the games out on the coffee table for her to choose from.

She realised, with a twinge of horror, that she was proud of herself.

Proud to have made Peeta smile like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Just a note to say that next week I may be away camping (weather depending) so there might not be an update until the following week. We'll see how things plan out! (:


	5. Part V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss makes the final decision.

Part V

Katniss noticed that Peeta wasn't at the bench.

She didn't want to notice, in fact theory dictated that she should have been pleased by this discovery. Instead she felt worry broil in her gut. Was he okay? Had something happened? Had the cancer suddenly worsened from when she had last seen him? Was he in hospital?

Why did she care?

Katniss mentally chastised herself and tried to refocus on her book. It was almost impossible, and instead she found herself thinking about how tomorrow was his birthday. Tomorrow was also the date that she was supposed to kill herself, in accordance to The Reaping. Was this possibly . . . it . . . for both of them? Katniss shuddered. Of course not. Peeta had plenty left to give, of course he hadn't . . . Surely he wasn't . . .

Katniss dropped her book into her bag and looked over the back of the bench at Peeta's house. She didn't know how to tell if it was empty or not, unless she somehow gained X-ray vision in the proceeding five minutes . . . If something had happened, there would be no way for her to know. Would Ariel think to come out to tell her some afternoon, or would she only think of Katniss as that girl she looked after that one evening?

The idea of Peeta being dead made Katniss physically ill, and she put her head into her hands to try to quell the throbbing that had developed in her brain. God, why did all the good people have to get hurt so badly? Why did they always get the short end of the stick, while assholes like herself somehow got the longer straw over and over again? If the world had to take someone, Katniss would rather it be her than him.

Sadly, Katniss did not have a choice. Nobody did. The world took who it wanted to take and no mortal being had a vote.

"If you hold your head any harder, your brain is going to come out of your nose."

Katniss' head snapped up. Low and behold, there stood Peeta. He had been grinning, but when he saw the alarmed look on Katniss' face, it faded. "What?" he asked, looking slightly dumbfounded.

Relief was the first emotion Katniss felt, but she didn't want to let it show. Instead she scowled. She stood up and smacked Peeta's arm, causing him to yelp with surprise. "What?!" he repeated, confused as to why she spontaneously decided to beat him.

She was annoyed because he had made her feel that way. Peeta hadn't done it purposely, but he had drawn something from Katniss that no one else could, and made her question things she had never questioned before. And for what? So he could just swagger up to the bench like there was nothing wrong with the world?

Ripping her notebook from her bag, Katniss scribbled, "Why are you late?!" and thrust it into his hands.

Peeta's blond eyebrows furrowed together as he read the note. "It's my birthday tomorrow . . ." he said unsurely, probably thinking that Katniss would never have remembered him telling her the date. "My parents rang to tell me they won't be able to make it to the party, nor my brothers. Not that I figured they would." Peeta scratched his head sheepishly, looking slightly confused still as he added, "I'm sorry if I worried you . . .?"

This made Katniss feel worse. God, if his own parents couldn't even make it to his birthday, and he had been homeschooled for who knows how long, isolated from any possible friend due to his illness, who exactly was going to be there for his eighteenth? Ariel? Was that it?

"I didn't want a party anyway, really," Peeta quickly said, clearly not liking the look on Katniss' face that resembled pity. "Hence why I had no qualms with asking you out that time." He grinned the usual cheesy smirk and added, "An offer which is still up for grabs."

Katniss shook her head but was actually smiling. He really was determined. But why her? Out of anyone who came out of those school gates across the road, why did he pick her? She wasn't anything special, and besides their mutual interest in sitting on the empty bench in the late afternoon they didn't really have all that much in common.

"I feel like I'm getting somewhere," Peeta proudly informed her. "You're smiling, you never used to do that."

This made Katniss force the smile away, but she knew that once Peeta had seen it he would not be unseeing it any time soon.

They sat down on the bench together. Katniss didn't even bother to pretend she was reading. Peeta didn't have anything with him either, and was instead lying with his head back against the backrest of the bench, absorbing the sun with a content smile. Katniss watched him for a moment, before feeling silly and looking away. Even though under the harsh light of the sun, Peeta's skin was sickly pale, but Katniss still felt like one would admiring artwork whenever she looked at him. She could easily see him being one of the popular kids in school, if he had ever been given the chance to attend properly. Peeta was just so good at getting along with people-if he could crack Katniss, he could crack anyone-and he'd meld in with any group with ease.

If they had been in school together, would Peeta even give her the time of day?

"I was never supposed to get this far, you know," Peeta randomly said. "The first time, I wasn't given a death date. They said it was treatable and I would be cured. The second time they weren't so sure. The third, they decided that I was relapsing so much that it had be caused by something else. So they scanned me, and the tests lit up like fireworks."

Katniss stared at her feet, absorbing what he was telling her. Lit up? But didn't he say he only had Hodgkin's?

As if sensing what she was thinking, Peeta explained, "I do only have Hodgkin's. Now. It's the only breed of Cancer left in my body after an ungodly amount of chemotherapy. They told me-well, my parents but I was in the room- 'you must be prepared for your son not reaching eighteen'-and even though I was, like, thirteen at the time, I knew I was going to prove that doctor wrong."

Katniss felt slightly sick. Of course, she had figured that that may have been the reason that this birthday meant a lot to Peeta. She just never thought he would actually tell her the story behind it himself.

"Hence why, y'know, I wanted to do something special for it," Peeta finished, opening his eyes and staring at the sky. "I thought I'd ask out the beautiful girl who sits at the bench with me."

Katniss didn't know how to describe her feelings in that moment. She wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but she wasn't entirely content either. All of this new information was making her uneasy and the more he revealed to her the guiltier she felt. Katniss was going to commit what had to be the most selfish act she would ever commit tomorrow. She was going to kill herself, throw away a healthy body and people who cared about her for what? Petty troubles?

Peeta sat up and rested his elbow on the back of the bench, allowing his head to lie against the palm of his hand. "Someday, I am going to die," he said.

Katniss looked at him sharply, the 'd' word making her stomach swoop.

"We all are," Peeta continued. "It may be tomorrow; it may not be for another fifty years. I could live until I'm eighteen or I could live until I'm hundred and eighteen. It's not the number that's important, it's the person who's fulfilling those numbers. I live my life how I see fit. And you should too."

Katniss tried to look away again. His gaze was too intense. Why was he saying this? Could he sense that she was about to do something stupid? Was he trying to talk her out of it before it was too late?

For once, Peeta stopped her. He turned Katniss' face back towards him, so she had to look him in the eye. "Our lives aren't measured in years," he said firmly, "they're measured in the lives of the people we touch around us. Someday you and I will both be corpses, but what will matter when our lives are over? The people we leave behind. The memories they have of us. You'd be surprised how many people need you in this life and would miss you when you're gone."

Katniss shook her head. She took her pen and wrote on his arm, "No one needs me."

Peeta raised his eyebrows as he read the statement. "I do, I need you," he said. "For a start."

Katniss couldn't handle this. Fear consumed her like a fire and she ran. She bolted away from the bench, leaving Peeta behind. She didn't care that her mother was returning today and said she would pick her up. She didn't care that she would probably suffocate because of her damaged trachea. She didn't care that everyone leaving the school saw her go. She just had to get away.

Katniss burst into her house, sweat pouring from her hair like a waterfall. The first thing she saw when she entered was Primrose, who was sat in the living room doing her homework. Her sister jumped at the slamming of the door and looked shocked by Katniss' exhausted state. "Katniss?" she frowned. "Did you run home?! I thought Mum was coming to get you!"

Ignoring her, Katniss stumbled up the stairs and into her room. Gasping for air, her trachea was throbbing with the effort of trying to work efficiently, she slammed the keys on her computer to bring up the Reaping. A big '1' flashed onto her screen and her throat felt like it was closing over. Katniss tried to sit down on her computer chair but missed, falling with a thud onto the floor.

Katniss struggled to breathe, her chest heaving in a fight to regain her breath. There was a pounding on her door and Prim's voice came through, "Katniss, open the door! Katniss!"

Katniss was going to kill herself tomorrow. Throwing away all the days she could live. Peeta was thankful for every day he was blessed with and yet for most of her life Katniss had treated every day she woke up alive and healthy as a disease she had been cursed with. She was selfish. She was an ungrateful; selfish; self-pitying girl who never appreciated what she had. There were so many like Peeta out there, who would kill for Katniss' healthy body and slightly unstable mind. It would be better than the disease they were riddled with, the sickness that plagued them every day of their lives. They would do anything for Katniss' life.

And she was going to toss it away like it meant nothing?

-Primrose needs a role model.

-Primrose needs a sister.

-My mother needs her eldest daughter.

-Peeta needs company.

-Lady and Buttercup need someone to feed them when Primrose is on the exchange programme this summer.

-Miss Trinket needs someone to actually listen to her in class.

-Madge Undersee needs a lab partner.

-Delly Cartwright needs someone to sit beside in Math.

-Gale Hawthorne needs a neighbour.

-Doctor Aurelius needs someone to talk to on Wednesday afternoons.

-I need my life.

Katniss shuddered against the floor, unable to stop thinking about all the people that needed her. Even if it was more the most mundane thing, it made Katniss feel troubled. She had never stopped to consider who would be affected by her dying or why. She had always just assumed that no one needed her and no one would miss her. It had felt that way for a while. Maybe she just hadn't stopped wallowing in her own self-pity to look harder at the people around her.

Katniss staggered to her feet, slamming her fist down on the computer and causing the website to disappear. She stumbled over to the door, still heaving from her running all the way home. When she opened the door, Primrose was white as a sheet. "Don't do that!" the younger girl immediately shouted, attaching herself to Katniss' middle.

Unable to speak, Katniss just shook her head. She hadn't meant to terrify Prim like that. She just hadn't thought that her sister would have thought-

Well, of course Primrose would have thought the worst. What else was there to think?

Katniss buried her face into Primrose's hair, feeling a lump that wasn't related to her injuries well up in her throat. She couldn't say sorry, but she hoped the intensity in which she returned the embrace got the message across just right. The last thing Katniss would ever intentionally do was hurt her sister.

But then, Primrose would be more than hurt when Katniss killed herself . . .

That night, Katniss lay in bed, pondering her fate. Tomorrow she had to make the biggest decision of her life. A couple of months ago, she would have been 110% sure what her decision would be if she was put into such a situation. It would have been an easy decision: die, save yourself from the suffering, end it all.

What was Katniss suffering though, exactly?

Katniss had gotten so caught up in this bubble of misery that she had really and truly lost sight of her reasons. Okay, she struggled. She was struggling a lot still to this day but . . . wasn't there a possibility of something good coming from such a struggle? Was that possibility worth staying alive for?

Rolling onto her back, Katniss stared at the ceiling. At the roof over her head and the bed she currently slept in. She had a computer; a phone; internet (albeit monitored); clothes; loved ones; an education. She had more to be grateful for than many, many others. Katniss had her health, which was admittedly declining with every meal she skipped. Why was she doing this to herself? What was the endgame?

Death?

Was that truly the answer here?

Katniss turned onto her side again and reached for her phone off the bedside table. She brought up Peeta's number, which they had exchanged during the day she was at his house, and texted him:

"If I stayed . . . Would you stay with me?"

There was a heartbeat before he answered.

"Always."

Katniss held the phone tightly to her chest and fought back tears. Of course he would. Such a beautiful human being, who would gladly do any and everything he could to encourage the life and safety of those around him because he knew damn well what it was like to be on the brink of death. Did Katniss really deserve such a person?

Katniss struggled with sleep that night, broiling with the demons inside of her. When her alarm blared, she jumped out of her skin, having believed that she had had more time. If she had a voice, she'd probably have screamed with surprise, but instead nothing but a dry and painful gasp escaped her.

The sunlight burst through her curtains like rays of gold, making her room look like it had been set on fire. Katniss fell out of bed and got ready for school, her heart beating so hard inside her chest she could feel it hitting the inside of her ribcage with every thump. She felt like she was heading towards two roads, one with a decision at the end of each. It reminded her of that poem in school, Two roads diverged on a yellow wood . . .

Katniss stood over her computer once she was ready, feeling like the grim reaper looming over a victim. She reached out and tapped the keypad, pressing her shaking thumb against the screen to log in.

J_Doe080592

O days.

Katniss looked down at the screen with a furrowed brow. In her other hand was her mobile, with the text message that Peeta had sent her last night on the screen.

'Always'.

Two paths. Both of them pulling Katniss in two different directions. They were both so radically different from one another. One was life, the other was death. One was a noose while the other was life support. One was light, the other was dark. One was final, the other was hers for the making.

Two roads diverged on a yellow wood . . .

Katniss closed her eyes and held her mobile against her chest. No, not roads. These weren't roads or paths. These were cliffs. Katniss was about to take a jump. A jump that would either save her life or end it. At the bottom of one was spiky rocks and at the bottom of the other was a safety net. A safety net with everyone who needed her holding it out to save her.

She opened her eyes and switched off her phone, Peeta's text message disappearing. She did the same with the computer, closing the Reaping down so both screens were jet black.

Katniss smiled and shouldered her backpack, leaving her bedroom for school.

And I took the one less travelled by . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So yeah, that's it! I hope you all enjoyed it and the ending didn't bother you all that much. Which path do you think Katniss chose? Was she able to be saved or did she decide that she couldn't handle life and ended it? I'd be interested to hear your thoughts!
> 
> Thank you all so much for supporting this story, I'm amazed by how it got picked up so well with so few chapters! You were all wonderful and supportive, especially when I needed to take the break for a while. As I always say, it's you guys who keep me writing. How you all enjoy my work astounds me and I'm delighted with every piece of feedback and every vote I get. So thank you all so much!
> 
> Looking for updates on my future works? I post updates on twitter at BBerrychills94. If you follow and tell me you're a reader I'll follow you back (:


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